


Billy Hargrove

by Twele



Series: Changes [6]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Baking, First Kiss, Grief/Mourning, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Innuendo, Internalized Homophobia, Irreversible Change AU, M/M, Making Bread, Moving On, Moving Out, POV Billy Hargrove, Past Billy/Steve, Steve is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24078850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twele/pseuds/Twele
Summary: The different ways in which Billy changes after the events of my story Irreversible Change.This won't make a lick of sense without reading my main fiction in this series.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Original Male Character(s), Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Changes [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676743
Comments: 25
Kudos: 36





	1. Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> This is the penultimate story for the series. There are much bigger time skips here but, with any luck, they should be made obvious to you guys.

\--- **June 1986** \---

“Did you know you grind your teeth?” the unmistakable voice was the first thing Billy registered as his eyes blearily cracked open. Dustin. The little shit.

A strong, white glare from the skylight flooded his vision and he quickly brought his arm up to cover his eyes. The little shit must have pulled back the blind. Billy groaned and brought his knees up so that he was in the foetal position, his tired body resisting how fucking awake he already was.

“It’s not good for you, my friend. What will Doctor Jackson say?” Dustin carried on and Billy finally registered how very close his voice was. Eyes blinking open, he lowered his arm a little to see the younger boy lying on his side next to Billy as if he had any fucking business being on his bed. “Hey,” Dustin smiled, looking pleased that Billy was finally awake.

Billy sighed and closed his eyes again.

“I’m with Doctor Matthews. He won’t give a shit…” he hummed in reply, snuggling his face back down into the pillow like he had a chance of falling asleep with Dustin Henderson in his room.

“Billy,” Dustin tried after a couple of minutes and Billy opened his eyes again. “You okay?”

Despite the stupidity of the start of their conversation, Billy could hear the sincerity in the other boy’s tone. There was a genuine _care_ there that Billy was still getting used to. Even now. Even today: June 8th 1986.

Day 365. A whole year after Steve’s death.

In the brief, unfocused moments of wakefulness, Billy had almost forgotten -forgotten the significance of the day- but no. There was no forgetting today. It had been all that had occupied his mind the past few days. It had been all he could think about. A year ago today, Steve Harrington died. A year ago today, Billy lost the love of his life.

Because that’s what Steve had been. A year of mourning had taught him that much.

Alex had been _a_ love _in_ his life. He definitely had _loved_ Alex Hayes but… Steve was different. Steve had always been different. From the moment Billy had laid eyes on him, Steve had been -in one way or another- the only thing he could focus on.

Yeah. He’d been the love of Billy’s life.

Last week had been nothing but a run up to this day. A small frown darkening his expression, Billy thought back to Friday night; to how he’d spoken to Nancy. Unaware of the significance of the event, Hawkins High had held its June Ball that night, as it had done every first Friday of June for _years_. Nancy and Jonathan had forgone the whole thing, missing their final ball together as high schoolers, just so they could sit and hang with Billy.

They were so thoughtful; so understanding.

All it had done was make a bad day worse. The June Ball had been the crown jewel of Billy’s time with Steve: that one, fleeting moment of perfection where they had just been together and happy and in love. It had been the brightest moment in Billy’s life and the anniversary of it had felt like its opposite. From the moment he’d woken up, that day had felt like the yin to the previous year’s yang; the negative that balanced that perfect positive. He hadn’t gone to school that day; had argued with Hopper over it; had screamed at El to get out of his head when she’d reached out.

Nancy and Jonathan giving up their time together for him had been too fucking much.

He’d screamed in Nancy’s face. Called her pathetic. Told her that she should focus on her own goddamn life and stop mothering him. He hadn’t meant it. He was just hurting so much and, goddamn, that still manifested as him being an asshole. After all this time, he still reverted back to default when everything was too fucking much. He’d seen the hurt on her face and he hadn’t stopped. Hadn’t stopped even when Jonathan warned him; when the other boy looked just about ready to hit him.

But he hadn’t. Jonathan was a better person than Billy. He’d wanted to -Billy could see as much from his furious expression at the shots he’d taken at _Joyce_ of all people and the knuckle-whiteningly tight fist- but, in the end, he simply walked away. The two of them left Billy in the attic room; cut off from the world by the slam of the hatch on their way out.

Looking back into Dustin’s eyes, Billy could see the vaguest hints of unease in his expression. The slight tightness in the corner of his mouth. The way his brows were still a little furrowed. The smallest hints practically screamed that the kid knew what had gone down and that he didn’t know what kind of mood Billy would be in today; that he was _braced_ for the worst.

Thing was… thinking about it. Billy didn’t feel and dreadful as he’d expected. Lying on his side, looking into the eyes of Dustin Henderson, Billy didn’t feel like today was all that bad. It was strange… Today was the _anniversary_. Everyone had known it was coming. When the nerds had been hanging out with El last week, Billy had overheard them talking about the ‘anniversary effect’; asking her how Billy was doing.

He’d really expected this to hurt more.

Thing was… Billy _always_ missed Steve. He’d long moved past the point of crying every day but it was always there. He was still counting the days that he’d been without, not that an _anniversary_ needed counting out.

Today just felt like any other day.

“Billy…” Dustin said again when the silence had gone on too long.

“I’m… _fine_?” Billy breathed, rolling onto his back like the change of orientation might change this; like a more valid, expected feeling would be shaken loose. No dice though. Obviously. Lying on his back, everything still felt the same. “I dunno… it’s just… _normal_?” he said, eyes following the flow of the wooden beams above him.

He felt Dustin shifting onto his back, his elbow knocking against him as he wiggled to get comfortable.

“Normal, huh?” the younger boy sighed in a way that made it sound like he didn’t quite believe him. Like he thought this was just the calm before the storm. Hell, he could be right. Billy was all kinds of confused as to why he was feeling this way; why he wasn’t beside himself like he had been on Friday.

“Maybe it’s like a hangover? Maybe I’ll feel worse when I get up?” Billy offered, feeling a little guilty that he was feeling quite so _okay_. Steve had died a year ago. Surely that warranted being a little miserable?

“Maybe?” Dustin shrugged, his elbow knocking into Billy again. “You gunna try it?”

“I’m not exactly wearing much under these blankets, man,” Billy warned and Dustin scoffed.

“You think I’m going to look? Gross,” he said rolling back the other way so he was facing away from Billy. “Go on. Get some clothes on so we can do this.”

Billy didn’t bother asking what ‘this’ Dustin had in mind for them today. He just clambered out of bed and stood there, adjusting to his newly-upright position. He looked around the room that he’d basically spend the past two days wallowing in. It didn’t feel as dark and empty as it had done. He wasn’t naïve enough to think it was just because Dustin had opened the blind to the skylight but… it didn’t stop the slightly gross feeling of guilt that was brewing up in his gut.

Steve was dead. Steve died. That happened _today_. He should feel worse.

Even once he was dressed and he and Dustin were climbing down the ladder into the pokey, old lounge, Billy still felt… _okay_. Hopper was sitting on the couch, mug of coffee in his hand, eyes coming up to look at the two of them.

“So, who are we dealing with today?” he sighed, leaning forward to put the mug down on the little table that Billy and El used for putting their feet up on more than anything else. “Is it gunna be the kid that I’ve been living with this past year; the kid who tries and is actually a decent human being…” he carried on and Billy braced himself for option two. From the old man’s tone, it wasn’t gunna be good. “Or is it that asshole who seems intent on pushing everyone away?”

It was blunt -fuck, was it blunt- but it was fair. Hopper had pretty much just avoided Billy after their screaming match on Friday morning; had loudly banned El from going up into the attic until Billy had ‘quit acting like such a goddamn _victim_ ’. That, too, had been harsh but fair. Goddamn, Billy really had been an asshole this weekend.

“I’m sorry, Hop,” he sighed, stepping into the room. The older man’s face stayed even; eyes locked onto him like he was expecting more. “I… It was…”

“He says he’s feeling fine today, sir,” Dustin chimed in, sounding as if he was expecting an all-out fight to suddenly break out. Hopper’s eyebrows raised and he made a noise that was a half-hum, half-scoff.

“That true? You feeling ‘fine’, kid?” he asked.

“Yeah… Look, Hopper-” but before Billy could say another word, Hopper was getting up out of his seat and crossing over to stand in front of him. He sighed and held his hand out, expression still not giving shit away, eyes still trained on Billy’s face. Hesitating only a moment, Billy reached out and took it. Giving Billy’s hand one firm shake, Hopper nodded and withdrew his hand.

“Haven’t had a bad one like that in a while,” Hopper said, moving back over to the couch. “Forgot what you can get like…”

“Yeah,” Billy replied, moving further into the room. “I really am sorry, Hop. I… I just…”

“I forgive you, son,” Hopper said with a wave of his hand, slipping and using the term of endearment that had only just started to be rolled out. ‘Son’. It had only been a couple of months since he first called Billy that but it still made him feel warm inside. “But I’m not the only one you lashed out at, you know?” he finished, pointedly nodding in the direction of El’s room.

“Yeah…” Billy breathed; El’s timid voice, Nancy’s hurt expression, Jonathan’s trembling first all still so vivid in his memory. Goddamn, Friday really had been a _day_. “Dustin-” he started, turning back to the other boy but he was already heading off in the direction of the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about me, Billy. You do what you gotta do!” he smiled his dorky smile. “I’m just gunna fix us some breakfast. I’m thinking eggs!”

“You’re gunna do what now?” Hopper snapped, whirling around just in time to watch Dustin disappear into the little kitchenette. In seconds, old man was on his feet, hurrying in after the teen with more than a few _choice_ words being muttered under his breath.

Sighing, Billy turned his attention to El’s door. It felt uncomfortable that they hadn’t made peace already. El was always so fast to forgive him when he was shitty. There must be limits to the kid’s patience. What if this time was the time he’d gone too far?

Before he could reach for the handle, the door was opening and El was standing in front of him. Just standing there. It didn’t look like she’d been heading out, she’d just… Opened the door up for him.

“Hey kid,” he sighed and she looked up at him with her dark, understanding eyes.

“Hey,” she said flatly; expectantly. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d been eavesdropping on them. Whether was by pressing her ear to the door or by using her powers, it didn’t matter. She was looking at him like she knew what was coming.

Better not disappoint.

“I’m sorry, El,” he breathed. “Sorry about Friday… About yesterday… I-” but she was already moving forwards; already wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her face against his chest.

“Bad day,” she said simply and Billy nodded.

“Yeah… it was… _They were_ …” even after all this time living together, he never knew how much to say out loud. He never knew what needed saying and what didn’t. Still, El’s arms tightened around him, giving him a squeeze.

“Not now?” she asked and Billy sighed.

“I guess? I mean, it’s not a _great_ day or anything but…” he trailed off. Today _still_ just felt like _another day_. It didn’t feel monumental or anything like that. “Shouldn’t today be worse?” he asked as if the kid holding onto his would have any idea.

“Not special. Friday _… June Ball_ … That was special,” El explained and it was so fucking true. Billy nodded stupidly, his hand coming up to keep El with him just that little bit longer. “Doing well, Big Brother…” El breathed against his chest.

Big Brother.

While Hopper had been calling Billy ‘son’ every now and then, it had always been just a simple term. It meant more than nothing - _of course_ it did- but it still didn’t carry the full weight of the implied father-son bond that one could infer from the term. It was more an acknowledgement of whatever bond the _had_ formed. It was something new; neither more nor less important than what it implied.

 _Big Brother_ was a new phrase for El entirely. When she said it, it carried all the weight and meaning of a true sibling relationship. It _should_ have frightened him. Billy had always struggled with being a good ‘big brother’ to Max. It had started out well, sure, but the bumps and bruises of shared experience had moulded _that_ relationship into something violent and altogether unstable. Only now that Billy, for the most part, was feeling more like a decent fucking human being, were they starting to fit back together again.

How could a sibling relationship with El work? It should have frightened him. It should have raised his heckles and had him retreating as fast as he could.

But no. This _was_ their relationship. In some ways, this had always been their relationship. From the first time Billy had been waiting outside of the Byers’ house, being held in place by El powers, there had been a link between them. El had been _waiting_ for him that night. She’d known that there was something there. She wasn’t replacing Max. She just… was. This bond -this _siblingship_ \- was _as well as_ not _instead of_.

So, he didn’t flinch -he didn’t run away- when he squeezed her tighter and smiled the words, “Doing well, Little Sister.”

They stood there for a moment, quietly letting the mutual acknowledgement sit between them. It was nice. It was almost enough to make Billy forget: forget what today was; forget what an asshole he’d been to his closest friends; forget about the conversation he needed to have with them.

As they pulled away, Billy could see the serious expression on El’s face.

“Forgive you,” she said and he knew she’d been poking around in his head again. “Already have.”

And, after calling both Nancy and Jonathan in turn, Billy was surprised to see how right she was; how deep the group’s bonds really were. Even when he was a total asshole, they were still there for him. That evening, Billy, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin and El all huddled together in Hopper’s lounge and watched shitty movies together.

Billy didn’t cry. Not until he was lying in bed and everyone was gone. Not until day 366 had crept up on him. He lay there and let the tears slowly trickle down his cheeks.

“I’m okay…” he breathed into the emptiness of his room. “I’m okay…”

\--- **August 1986** \---

Nancy and Jonathan were both going to college.

The three remaining matches all graduated a week and a half after the June Ball. Billy’s grades were good but he hadn’t even _looked_ at applying anywhere. He knew he’d never save up the money and expecting it from Hopper or _anyone_ else would be too much. His one way in, once upon a time, would have been basketball but, without Steve to play against, he’d not played in Senior year.

Larry had come back to working at the auto shop around November time but the supervisor role seemed to have sat well with him. He offered Billy a full time job first day of summer, no questions asked. Billy was happy enough to stick around; work with cars like he had done back in Cali. It was honest work and he knew what he was doing.

All the same, both Nancy and Jonathan were moving away in September. They’d both gotten in at the University of Chicago and were getting an apartment together near campus. It was sweet. It was a future that they both had discussed again and again over the past year. Billy knew it was coming and was happy for them.

Well… as happy as he could be.

The smallest, most basic part of him was a little bitter still. _He'd_ had a plan too. _He’d_ had a plan to get out of Hawkins and live somewhere bright and new. While he wasn’t gunna break down over it anymore, it still hurt to think of. He still sometimes dreamed of a tiny loft in San Francisco; of sun and sea and beautiful, pale skin. Every now and then, he’d still catch himself trying to picture the boy he loved smiling in the Californian sun.

The image was getting harder and harder to focus on. Steve was getting harder and harder to remember.

Photographs weren’t true likenesses. The pages of the yearbook, that had been made into a memorial for Hawkins High’s old king, never really reflected how Steve had looked in the flesh: how tall he had been; how big his hands were; how his lips had felt against Billy’s skin. Slowly but surely, Billy was losing that image of Steve.

It sucked. It hurt. It burned. But it was all shit he was getting used to. It was all shit that was part of him now. Gone were the days when he’d break down over small things like that.

He was still counting. The days were still stacking up. 447 had passed when Billy was finally moving out of Hopper’s cabin.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like living with him and El. Far from it. It was simply _time_. With Nancy and Jonathan moving away at the end of the month, Billy had made it his mission to find an apartment. A year of saving from his work at Larry’s meant he was more than ready to lay down a deposit and having the Chief of Police as a guarantor didn’t exactly hinder his efforts.

So, on August 29th -day 447- Billy moved into the tiny apartment above the laundromat in the centre of town. It wasn’t much, just three rooms, but it would be Billy’s. Hopper and El were there to help him with the first wave of moving shit in; Hopper _insisting_ that he kept all of the furniture that had been bought for his attic room. Hell, Joyce ‘popped round’ during the morning to drop off a table and chair set that _definitely_ looked more like they’d been bought specially than simply _‘taking up space in the shed’_ like she claimed. All the same, Billy accepted everything that was thrown his way.

Once all of the heavy lifting was finished, Hopper and El headed off. As Billy saw them to the door, Hopper clapped a strong hand on his shoulder and smiled.

“I’m proud of you, son,” he said, his voice rough and his eyes full of warmth. “Think this place’ll suit you just fine.”

With them gone and out of the way, Billy had made a real good effort with unpacking the mountains of shit that he’d somehow amassed over just a year of living with people who didn’t hate his fucking guts like Neil did. He positioned the couch from the attic facing the little coffee table that he’d picked up from the thrift store. There he set up his record player in lieu of actually owning a TV, carefully positioning Max’s record box off to the side for easy access.

Opening it up, he pulled out the most precious keepsakes that he hadn’t wanted to lose track of during the move: Steve’s mix, the little match box that Nancy had given him way back when and the polaroid picture of him, Hopper and El at Lake Michigan. They’d gone there the week after Billy had graduated for a weekend. El had wanted to take him to the sea but that was the closest they could manage with both Hopper and Billy’s work schedules. Billy smiled as he looked at the picture; that had been a real good day.

He straightened up and moved over to the fireplace. When he’d come round to look at the apartment, he’d been surprised that it came with a fire at that price but the agent was quick to inform him that it had long been cut off. All the same, Billy positioned his treasures with pride of place on the mantle, the soft smile still lingering on his lips.

He busied himself with more unpacking until there was a light tapping at the door. A knock on the door was nothing special but this was the first of its kind in his new place and Billy felt a stupid swell of giddiness at the thought of being in his own home as he rushed to see who it was. The door opened to reveal Jonathan holding a heavy box; or at least the other boy did a damn good job of making it _look_ heavy.

“Need a hand with that, Jon?” he smirked and the other boy rolled his eyes.

“I mean, I can drop it if you’d prefer?” he snipped and Billy laughed. Grinning, Billy took it from him and lead the way into the room. “Wow… you work fast,” Jonathan breathed as Billy opted for putting the box down on Joyce’s table.

“Nah, just not got all that much shit,” Billy lied as Nancy came in holding another box. “Although you guys seem to be here to remedy that, what are these?” he asked as Nancy placer her box beside the one Billy had just put down.

“Hug first, then gifts,” she huffed, crossing the short distance between them to wrap her arms around him. Billy smiled as he pulled her close for a beat before they separated.

“Gifts? You guys are all way too mushy!” he scolded and Nancy shook her head.

“That one is from my mom,” she said, pointing at the one that Jonathan had struggled with. “She said that she was getting one for me and Jonathan to take to Chicago so she just got two instead.”

Billy grinned at the thought of Karen still thinking of him. He’d seen her around quite a bit since the short stint he’d spent living in her basement but never anything all too formal. Usually just passing when out in town or when he was dropping El off. It was nice to think that she’d got him something, even if it was unreasonably heavy.

After a beat, Billy took his cue to go and open the box and was pretty taken aback to see that Karen had gotten him a microwave oven. For a moment he just stared at it, gobsmacked. Hell, they all did. As if Karen Wheeler had spent that much on him!

“I-” Billy started but Nancy was looking at the box in awe.

“Woah! She seriously got _two_ of these?” she gasped and Billy was shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I can accept this…” he said and Jonathan was nodding as if he wasn’t about accept the second one either. Nancy shook her head and looked at Billy sternly.

“It’s a gift. She’d be upset if you tried to give it back,” she scolded and Billy bit his tongue.

Another beat passed before anyone dared speak again. Billy looked over at the second box and braced himself.

“And what’s in _that_ one?” he asked and Nancy jumped on the spot.

“Oh! Yes! Don’t open it yet, it’s the second part of our present!” she rushed and suddenly she was heading back out of the apartment.

Billy looked at Jonathan who shifted from foot to foot uneasily.

“Do I want to know?” he asked and the other boy stiffened.

“I… I think you’ll like it…” he offered, his shoulders going high in that way they did when he really was uncomfortable. “…eventually…” he added and Billy looked back over at the door with dread in the pit of his stomach. “Just- Before she gets here… You should know that we spoke to Arnie,” Jonathan continued and Billy looked back over to him. Arnold Hewitt was the landlord and had gone to school with Hopper and Joyce back in the day. It was one of the reasons Billy had been able to find this place so fast. “He’s okay with it and Nancy really thinks it’s a good thing…. Just give it a chance okay?”

And wasn’t that cryptic?

Before Billy could wonder any longer, Nancy was coming back through the open door, carrying one final box. Without even seeing inside the box, Billy felt suspicion creeping up; a few hints giving it away a little. One, the way she carried it was so _careful_ , so _slow_ that it must have been something very fragile inside. Two, there were holes in the top of the box like whatever was inside needed to _breathe_. And three, the little noises from inside were _very telling_.

“Nancy…” Billy breathed as she gently put the box down at his feet.

“I know you have the kids and Hopper and Larry and… _everyone_ here in Hawkins…” she breathed, staying crouched down near the ground. Billy lowered himself down to her level as her hands moved to the flaps of the box. “But I don’t like the idea of you being alone here… I couldn’t…” she stopped, her voice getting choked up with emotion. She looked up at him, her baby blues sparkling with intensity. “I couldn’t leave knowing that you didn’t have someone,” she finished and Billy had to bite his lip.

Jonathan moved to her side, kneeling on the floor by the box. He put an arm around her shoulder but kept his eyes on Billy.

“Give this a chance, Billy…” he said softly as Nancy opened up the box.

Billy looked down into the box. There, lying asleep in a near-perfect circle of sandy fluff, was a tiny puppy. It was barely bigger than a rat, it’s little tail curled up onto its back in a mini spiral.

“You got me a dog?” Billy breathed after a heartbeat and the little mutt stirred.

“We got you a dog,” Nancy confirmed as its little, black eyes cracked open.

Billy watched as it yawned and stretched. He didn’t know how to feel. The fact that the other two were worried about him being alone -that Nancy didn’t want to leave him like that- was fucking touching. But this… This was a big responsibility.

“I’ve never had a dog…” Billy said stupidly as the pup looked around at the box and then up at Nancy and Jonathan. Its tail wiggled on its back as it turned around to look at him. Giving out a little ‘yip’ sound, it hopped up to put both paws on the side of the box closest to him. Unfortunately, this tipped the box and both it and the puppy flopped down to the ground.

Instinctively, Billy reached out and caught the little critter and it stilled in his hands. He brought it up and they looked into each other’s eyes for a moment.

“There’s not much to know really. You feed them, let them out to go to do their business and take them for walks every day,” Jonathan stammered, his voice still sounding worried that Billy was about to hurl the dog back at them or some shit.

Looking at the little creature in his hands, Billy had to admit it was cute. With its little, pink belly exposed, he could see it was a girl and she had a little splash of white on her chest. He brought her closer to his face and straight away her little tongue darted out to lick at him.

“What do you think you’ll call her?” Nancy asked, talking as if it was a done deal that he was keeping her. Billy looked up at her but his eyes were drawn back to the puppy. She really _was_ cute. Her little legs were scrabbling about now, like she wanted to be put down. Billy obliged and the little pup scampered under the table and started sniffing the chair legs.

“I…” Billy breathed, watching the puppy move around the room, sniffing all the way. After a couple of minutes she looked up and suddenly charged back over to Billy, planting her little feet on his thigh and stretching up in an attempt to lick him again.

“She likes you,” Nancy smiled and Billy scratched her little head. Her fur was so soft and fluffy. She _really_ was cute. “You should give her a name. If you say it and she looks at you, give her a treat. That way she’ll learn it’s her name,” she instructed like training a dog was the easiest thing.

“I don’t have any treats,” Billy said absentmindedly, still watching as the puppy scampered off towards the bedroom door. Jonathan quickly got to his feet and beat her there, closing it before she could disappear from view. He then rushed over to close the front door and the puppy was secured inside the room.

“Well it’s a good thing our gift includes a good puppy starter kit,” Nancy smiled, eyes going back to the final, unopened, box. “Bed, food, treats and toys. All included for her new home,” she grinned.

Seeing that there was no escape, the puppy made a beeline for the couch, thumping into it when her little legs tripped over themselves. Without thinking, Billy moved over to where she was crumpled upside down and picked her up like he was rescuing her or some shit.

“You okay?” he asked automatically, instantly feeling like an idiot for talking to a dog. The puppy ‘yipped’ at him again and started licking the air in his direction.

“See? You’re good with her,” Nancy said, climbing to her feet and moving to stand beside him. “I think she looks like an ‘Angel’ don’t you?” she suggested, still clearly eager for Billy to choose a name. Jonathan made a dismissive sound and Billy looked up.

“Can you really see Billy calling ‘Angel’ out in a park?” he snarked and Billy couldn’t help but snigger at the suggestion. It was a funny idea.

“Well what would you suggest?” Nancy countered playfully.

“I don’t know… ‘Vixen’? Something with a harsh vowel sound, you know?” the other boy shrugged and Billy shook his head.

“Puppy,” he said and the other two stopped in their tracks. “I’ll call her Puppy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither Nancy nor Jonathan were impressed with that name by the way. :)


	2. Someone Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really trying to distract myself from all the uncertainty in the world right now... ^_^
> 
> Here's Billy still trying his best.
> 
> There's one more chapter here and then the next story in the series is the final one. It's kind of the payoff for all of this nonsense. Hope people are still enjoying this.

\--- **10 th** **July 1987** \---

“Billy… be honest,” Nancy started, leaning further into Billy’s space. Smiling, Billy let her do this. She was only two drinks in but, then again, had never been all that good at holding her alcohol. “When was the last time you went on a date?” she carried on, blue eyes narrowing to gage his reaction.

Of all the things he’d expected her to say in that moment, _that_ wasn’t on the list.

It was summer vacation, at least for college students, and Nancy and Jonathan had come back home a few weeks ago. He’d seen them during the year -hell, he and Puppy had vacationed in their tiny apartment for a week in November- but it felt incredible to have them back. It wasn’t long before they’d decided to go out to a couple of clubs two towns over; figuring that, now they were all twenty, they should be able to get served so long as the person behind the bar hadn’t watched at least two of their group growing up. It was working pretty well. Jonathan was at the bar while Nancy and Billy were camping out at the little table Nancy had managed to snag out of pure _nerve_.

Billy had been pretty relaxed and happy until that question came up.

Thing was, he _hadn’t_ been on any dates recently. It was just over two years since Steve had died and he hadn’t dated at all in that time. In all honesty, he and Steve had never _dated_ either. _Dating_ wasn’t a thing he’d done in all seriousness since way back when he’d been living in California.

Ruffling the back of his hair with a small laugh, he looked at his friend. Her pretty face was pulled into a pouty, little frown as if she was accusing him of something. It would almost be adorable if Billy didn’t know better.

“I don’t date, Nance,” he answered simply because it was true. What he and Steve had had was still the most important thing that had ever happened to him, emotionally speaking, but they hadn’t been _dating_. Being with a guy in pokey, old Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t really a _dating_ affair; no matter how many Hawkins mainstayers were turning out to be okay with the homo shit.

“Well, _okay_ …” she huffed with a roll of the eyes. “When were you last _with_ someone?” she asked pointedly.

“Nance…” Billy said, moving back away from her a bit.

“I have this friend…” she started and Billy felt a twinge of dread at those words.

“Nancy-!”

“Hear me out!” she hushed him, taking his hands in her own. Billy hummed his annoyance but didn’t argue. “I have a friend: Eric Young. He’s a med student and… he’s pretty cool,” she explained, her hands squeezing his tightly like she thought he was going to run away.

Billy sighed. This wasn’t the first time that his relationship status had been brought up by one of the people in his life. Usually it was Dustin. The little shit _loved_ eyeballing just about every guy they came across when they went anywhere together; whispering his overly-loud whisper about whether or not they might be ‘on Billy’s team’. It was ridiculous but it never went anywhere.

Nancy actually coming up with a _potential person_ … that was new.

“Save it, Nance. I’m not interested,” Billy said dismissively, taking his hands back out of her grasp.

“Billy, listen…” Nancy sighed, shifting closer again, her eyes flicking over to the bar where Jonathan was chatting away with someone. Billy followed her gaze for a second. It seemed harmless -Jonathan had been coming out of his shell more and more now that he was living away from home- but something made Billy look again. The way the two men at the bar were standing, the fact that Jonathan let the other guy take up one of the bottles that he’d paid for, the way the man walked with him as he headed back over to the table…

Shit. This was a set up.

“Billy!” Jonathan smiled nervously, still having the sense to know this may not be well received. “I’d like you to meet Eric. He’s a med student-”

“Nancy already said,” Billy interrupted, standing up to face the two men.

He looked this _Eric_ up and down, not caring how obvious it was. He looked a little older than the rest of them and, with him being a med student, Billy guessed he must have been around twenty five-ish. He had a flat top haircut that wasn’t too tall and his eyes were the colour of caramel. As he watched Billy checking him out, his lips spread into a, frankly, _gorgeous_ smile, revealing a pair of dimples. Billy trailed his eyes down, taking in his figure. He was lean but, from the exposed muscles of his forearms, it was obvious that he was in shape.

Fuck… He was pretty hot.

“Getting a good look there?” _Eric_ asked, his voice deep and almost a laugh. Billy blinked back up to meet those caramel eyes. Fuck… they really were something, even in the dimmed light of the club.

“Figured I might as well,” Billy sniffed, a layer of bravado naturally rising up to the surface. “If my friends are going to try and set me up with some random guy, I might as well inspect the merchandise.”

It was a shit line. It made him sound like a total jackass. To the right of Eric, Billy could see Jonathan wincing. Hell, he could _feel_ Nancy’s reaction to his left. Still, Eric’s face lit up and a beautiful purr of a laugh tumbled out of him.

“Well, that’s fair I suppose,” he grinned, eyes flicking over to Nancy and giving her a wink. “Although,” he continued, stepping round the table and closer to Billy now; coming right up into his space. Those eyes slowly drifted from Billy’s to his lips and further south, a pink tongue poking out to lick at his lower lip. Fuck… This guy really was hot. “Only fair I do the same, then, isn’t it?” he smirked as his eyes finally came back up to meet Billy’s.

They held position for a moment. It was… intense. Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, Billy wasn’t sure what to do with himself. This was the first time he’d even _looked_ at someone else since Steve had died… It felt…

“Billy Hargrove,” he forced himself to say, taking a half-step back so his calf knocked against the couch he and Nancy had been sitting on. He held out a hand, instantly feeling like a tool when he realised that the other man was holding two beers.

With another melodic laugh, Eric put the beers down and took Billy’s hand in his own. Holding his gaze, he gave him a firm, confident shake before withdrawing.

“Eric Young. A pleasure to meet you, Billy,” he smiled and, fuck, it really was too much.

Clearing his throat, Billy nodded and sidestepped away.

“I’m-” he started, not sure what to say. Fuck. He was running away. He couldn’t deal. This was a lot. This guy was a lot. “Bathroom…” he said lamely, turning on his heel and making his escape.

He marched right past the men’s room; headed right out of the back doors and into the little outdoor area. There were a few couples making out in various corners, along with some people who just couldn’t handle the heat inside the club.

That was Billy: couldn’t handle the heat.

Hand shaking, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his smokes. He tapped one out and put it to his lips. Before he could fish out his zippo, however, someone was holding one out in front of him. Following the length of the person’s arm, Billy rolled his eyes at the sight of Jonathan Byers and his sympathetic expression. He leaned forward, hand coming up to shield the flame, and lit his smoke.

“This isn’t the bathroom,” Jonathan said as Billy breathed in deep.

“This wasn’t supposed to be an ambush,” Billy replied and Jonathan shook his head.

“It’s not an ambush, Billy,” he argued but Billy just scoffed and took another drag. “Eric comes from here and Nancy wanted to see him. He’s a good guy; lives in our building back in Chicago.”

“Yeah?” Billy huffed, not sure what else he could say to that.

“Yeah. It wasn’t supposed to be an ambush. Just…” Jonathan sighed, shifting between his feet like he couldn’t think how to phrase it. “He’s a good guy, _you’re_ a good guy… We both figured it would be good for you to meet, you know?”

“You meet one other faggot and you’re pairing us up, huh Jonathan?” Billy snapped, turning to face the boy fully now. He knew that wouldn’t be it -knew that there would be more to this shit than just shared sexuality- but, fuck, he was feeling on edge. Finding another guy _attractive_ right now just felt plain _wrong_.

“B-Billy, it’s not like that…” Jonathan stammered and his hands were up in surrender. Fuck.

The anger burnt out before it had even had a chance. Billy frowned. He hated being like this; hated seeing his friend’s reactions when he was like this. It was rare and usually short-lived but he could still be a major asshole.

“Urgh… sorry Jon,” he sighed, taking a step back away from the other boy. He took another drag of his smoke and rolled his head back. “He seems nice… I just…” he bit his lip and looked around. No one in the little outdoor area was paying them any attention. From inside, he could hear the sound of Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance with Somebody. God, he wasn’t here for that shit. He wasn’t here for any of this shit. “Steve…” he said and it sounded so fucking pathetic. Twenty five months later and he’s still thinking of the boy with beautiful eyes.

“Billy… He’s gone,” Jonathan said softly, barely audible over the sound of Whitney’s voice. “He wouldn’t want you to be alone forever.”

“I know…” Billy sighed, dropping the last of his smoke on the floor and crushing it under his boot. It was true. Steve would want him to be happy. “But I… I don’t know if I’m…”

“We’re not asking you to marry him, Billy,” Jonathan said with an ironic twist to his words. “You don’t even have to see him again after tonight. It would just be good if…. He joins us for the night. Yeah?”

“But _he_ thinks this is a set up, right?” Billy pressed and Jonathan’s shoulders slumped.

“I mean… He guessed it was, yeah,” he admitted. “But he’s not expecting anything! He was just saying at the bar that he doesn’t usually do set ups! We’re all just… _hanging_ out!” he continued and Billy had to roll his eyes.

Outside of the monster hunting crew, Billy generally kept himself to himself back in Hawkins. When he wasn’t working at Larry’s or hanging out with Dustin, Billy generally kept himself to himself. Thanks to Nancy, he had Puppy and, really, that was all he needed in the day to day.

Just _hanging out_ was still more than Billy bargained for. Even if this wasn’t a _romantic_ thing, he wasn’t certain he really needed any more _friends_. He was happy enough with how shit was. He didn’t need to change it.

Still, looking at Jonathan, thinking about Nancy back inside, Billy let out a deep sigh.

“Go on then…” he exhaled, trudging back in the direction of the back doors. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

For saying how much Billy resisted it, the night out was a real blast. Billy focused his attentions on his friends for the most part but Eric… He really was a _nice guy_. Outside of the awkward first impression -which Billy had to admit was largely his fault- the guy wasn’t pushy or anything like that. If anything, he seemed disinterested at best.

It was only at the end of the night, when everyone was more than a little worse for wear, that he showed any kind of interest. As Nancy and Jonathan walked ahead of them, looking for a cab, Eric walked in step with Billy, caramel eyes softly taking him in.

“So you’re a fag, huh?” Billy said, his voice a little slurred from drink. Eric stopped walking and it took Billy a couple of steps to do the same. The older man looked around before giving Billy a small nod.

“I’m _gay_ , yes,” he said shortly, his tone showing his disapproval. “And you?”

“Yeah… guess I am,” Billy sighed, taking a step back to lean against one of the street lights. Even though it was July, the metal of the pole was cool and hard against his spine. It made him feel more stable; less likely to fall and make an ass on himself.

“So how did I do?” Eric asked, tilting his head to one side. “In your inspection? What was the verdict?”

Hearing Eric talk so normally after how much they’d all drunk make Billy feel all kinds of stupid. Even when he was drunk, the older man seemed to have a calm, sophisticated air to him that Billy didn’t feel he could deal with.

“You’re…” Billy started, wondering what on earth he could say. Eric was _hot_ ; really hot. As the night had gone on, he’d taken off the jacket he’d been wearing and -goddamn- he’d looked good with his arms out. Billy looked the other man up and down again. Fuck… this wasn’t normal for him. This wasn’t _Steve_ … “You’re really hot…” he said and instantly felt like an idiot; instantly felt the churn of guilt twisting up his insides.

“Well, thank you…” Eric replied with a beautiful laugh. He took a step closer and Billy was suddenly aware of the way he’d backed himself up; the position he’d put himself in. “And let me say…” he started, taking another step so that there was barely a fist’s distance between their chests. Those caramel eyes looked deep into Billy’s and he felt his breath hitch. Soft fingertips trailed up Billy’s forearm, all the way up to push a rogue curl behind his ear. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

And, in that moment, Billy knew the other man wanted to kiss him. He could see those caramel eyes resting on his lips, could see the _desire_ in the size of his pupil. Eric Young wanted him; was waiting for him.

But he wasn’t ready. He just… wasn’t.

Bowing his head away from the other man, Billy let out a small chuckle. It was stupid; it was weak. He was too scared, too weak for this. He wasn’t ready.

With a small laugh of his own, Eric brush his hand through Billy’s hair one more time -goddamn, it had gotten long now- and then he was taking a step back to turn and look after the other two.

\--- **24 th July 1987**\---

Billy had spoken to Eric a couple of times after that first night. Well, a couple is downplaying it a little. He’d spoken to the other man on the phone all of _seven_ times in the past fortnight and two of the calls had been _long_. It was weird. They talked about cars, about Eric’s med school shit, about how Puppy broke her dew claw and how Eric didn’t think it was worth going to the vet over; about anything but whatever had passed between them that first night.

Dustin was insufferable about it.

Naturally, he found out about ‘the sexy doctor guy’ from Nancy and Jonathan and _naturally_ he was all over it. The questions, the pestering; it was almost enough for Billy to demand he give back the spare keys that he’d stupidly given the younger boy. Almost.

“When are you going to see him again?” Dustin had asked over and over until, finally, Billy had cracked. Had called Eric up with Dustin sat right beside him and invited him to hang out at his place. It was stupid and rash but Eric had accepted with laughter in his voice and all Billy could do was given his address and a time.

Sitting in his apartment, five minutes from the specified time, Billy couldn’t help but think he’d made a huge mistake. He looked at Puppy but she was no help; simply chewing away on the candy cane shaped rawhide that was still left over from Dustin’s Christmas present.

“Fuck…” Billy swore, eyes drifting over to the weights in the corner of the room. If he’d had more time, he’d have started lifting; channelled some of his anxiety into exercise the way that he always did. Since living in his own place, Billy was proud to say that he’d bulked back up and then some. He usually lifted at least once every two days but sometimes, when the world was feeling just that little bit too _heavy_ , he’d go every day. Like when he’d been living with Neil, the burn of his muscles, the after glow of a good workout, made everything seem a bit more bearable.

The knock on the door was confident. Three loud, steady knocks; like the person knew he’d be heard. Puppy was up in a flash, barking away at the door until Billy was on his feet. She always did that; like she felt it was her duty to make sure he got to the door in a timely manner. She never hung around to see who it was; she just wanted to make sure that Billy had done his job.

When Billy opened the door, his heart started to beat faster in his chest. Eric was there, just as fucking hot as he’d been in the club; if not more so. He was wearing black ankle-length pants with a baggy, white New Order t-shirt tucked into it and he looked fucking _good_. Billy simply stood and stare for a second, already feeling like a fucking idiot.

“Hey,” Eric smiled and Billy licked his bottom lip.

“Hey,” he parroted back like a fucking moron but Eric’s smile only broadened.

“So this is your place?” he hummed and Billy nodded dumbly. “Can I come in?” he followed up when there was another pause and Billy clenched his fist as he stepped out of the way.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah… Come in,” he muttered, gesturing inwards with his whole fucking arm extended like a goddamn idiot. Once again, however, Eric just smiled, moving past Billy and looking around the apartment, his caramel eyes sparkling with delight.

Seeing that the person was actually _in_ the apartment, Puppy rushed back from her spot on the couch to check Eric out. Billy closed the door as the older man dropped to his knees and fussed the little dog like this wasn’t their first time meeting. Little slut that she was, Puppy was on her back in seconds, offering up her belly for tickles which Eric was all about giving.

“She is so cute!” Eric grinned up at him, his hands still fussing even as his attention moved back to Billy. 

“Thought she’d get bigger,” Billy shrugged. The little dog was still barely bigger than a regular house cat. Once upon a time, Billy would have remarked that, if you were going to get a dog that small, you might as well get a cat but Puppy had spent just under a year convincing him of her merits. Although he’d been resistant at first, there was no denying that Puppy was the best thing that could have happened to him after Steve had died.

Eyes flicking up to the mantle where Steve’s Mix was, Billy felt another jolt of guilt. Fuck…

\--- **27 th July 1987**\---

The ‘date’ or whatever had been… fine. Billy had taken Eric and Puppy on a walk and then, while Puppy slept, the two of them had gone to see a movie. RoboCop. It wasn’t exactly _romantic_ but, then again, two guys couldn’t exactly go to see a romantic flick together in Hawkins anyways. After the movie had finished, Billy had said his goodbyes and headed off home.

It had been a good date. He’d made it through even with the guilt swirling around inside.

But then Eric hadn’t called. Three days and just… nothing.

Billy had tried to tell himself that it was fine. He wasn’t ready; hadn’t been ready. It was fine. But there was a niggling feeling in the back of his skull; made worse by Dustin Henderson telling him to ‘just call him’.

So, that’s how Billy ended up calling Eric at 11PM that Monday night. Eric picked up quickly, answering with his usual, “Young residence?”

“Hey… It’s Billy,” Billy said, suddenly feeling like a total loser. It had only been three days!

“Hey,” Eric replied and Billy could hear the smile in his voice. Goddamn, it was so confusing. The moment he heard the other man’s voice it was like… he was ready but he wasn’t. He was totally crushing on him but… he wasn’t Steve.

Billy closed his eyes. The image of Steve was so blurry now.

“Billy?” Eric spoke and it was clear there had been a pause. Fuck. Billy gripped the phone closer to his ear.

“Hey, sorry- I-” he stammered stupidly. “I was just calling to… Urgh… I dunno,” he sighed, leaning against the wall that the phone was attached to. Puppy was snoring on the couch. Only Eric could hear how fucking stupid he sounded. “I didn’t hear from you after Monday so I was being an idiot… I’m sorry,” he admitted because, fuck, all of this suddenly felt so stupid.

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone.

“Look, you seem really nice and all, Billy, but this is... I don’t think- I don’t have the time- No… I don’t think I have the _strength_ to date someone who doesn’t want to be dating me...” Eric said and Billy bit his lip.

Shit.

“Eric...” he started, not sure what to say to that. Had Monday really gone that badly? Thinking back over it, they had had a nice time of it. It really was nice… _Nice_ … Fuck. Even Billy knew that _nice_ was pretty much a dud. How had he been so stupid? All of the heat, the tension, from the first night they’d met, had just not been there. Billy had pushed it all away. He’d been too scared. He’d been too weak. “I’m sorry... Nancy said this would be good for me. _You_ would be good for me... It’s just...”

“I know you lost someone, Billy. Nancy told me. It’s okay not to be ready,” Eric said softly and Billy bit his lip. How the fuck was he supposed to respond to that?

“It’s been two years!” he said but it came out as a cry. There was a wave of emotion flooding through him and, goddamn, he didn’t know where it had come from. “I should be better... I...”

“Grief isn’t something that just goes away after an arbitrary time like 730 days,” Eric said and it was so fucking _understanding_.

“That’s some fast math,”

“They don’t let just anyone on these med courses, you know,” Eric replied and there was the smallest huff of a laugh behind his words. Billy closed his eyes and smiled. He was a good guy. “I mean it though, Billy. It’s okay if you’re not ready to date yet. We don’t have to do this.”

Did Billy want that? Eric had only been in his life for a little over a fortnight. He would be fine if he wasn’t there again. Right?

“I...” Billy started, biting down hard on his lower lip. “I wanna see you again... I just don’t...”

There was a long pause. Billy knew he should say something; explain himself. But fuck… He couldn’t. It was all so confusing. Eric was… he was _new_. He was _different_. He wasn’t Steve but…

But then Billy just didn’t want to want anyone else yet. He knew it was fucking stupid -that it was over two years now and Steve was never coming back- but he just wanted to hold onto it a little longer. His grief was one of the few reminders of Steve that was left. Everyone else seemed to have moved on. The Harringtons were gone. Tommy and Carol had gotten married and were actual fucking _adults_ now.

No one was sitting around remembering Steve Harrington.

As much as Eric was… As much as Billy thought Eric was…

He just _wasn’t_. And Billy _wasn’t_ either. Not yet.

“Okay. Let’s take the pressure off,” Eric finally spoke, filling the silence that Billy was too pussy to fill for him. There was a sigh and then the older man carried on, “We'll keep seeing each other as friends. Take it a step at a time.” His voice was neutral; Billy couldn’t read whether this was what he wanted or not.

“You'd want that?” he asked. He couldn’t… He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know anything…

“I mean… _Sure_ ,” Eric replied, his voice showing a little more hesitancy now. Fuck. The twist of guilt in his guts twisted the other way now. “You’re a nice guy, Billy. I _would_ like to get to know you better,” the older man continued and Billy closed his eyes and nodded. All he could do was go by what the other man was _saying_.

“I think I’d like to know you too,” he breathed and, fuck, it was the truth.

\--- **23 rd August 1987**\---

Billy and Eric had been seeing each other twice a week. Most of the time, Eric made the drive from Chicago himself and they’d hang out in Hawkins. Billy went to Chicago twice; once with Puppy and once alone. It was nice. They hung out and talked and basically did what they said they’d do: they got to know each other.

Biting the bullet, Billy had told Eric all about California, about Neil and about Alex. It had felt strange reopening that wound again but Eric had listened and understood. He’d told Billy about his own father; about how he’d left when he was only four and how his mother had given him over to his Aunt not long after. He told Billy all about his cousins and how only one of them knew that he was gay; how he’d never tell the rest of the family because they would not approve.

It was strange and nice to have a friend to talk about this shit with. Even if that friend was ridiculously good looking.

That Sunday evening, Eric was due to come over. Billy had left the door on the latch as he cooked dinner, playing the Master of Puppets record Max had got him for Christmas as loud as he knew he could get away with. As the titular track played, Billy nodded in time with the beat, his hair safely tied up in a bun away from the bubbling sauce.

“Hey,” Eric’s voice made him jump. Billy whirled around to see the other man standing there by Joyce’s table set. Puppy was off somewhere sleeping no doubt. Useless guard dog.

“Fuck, you made me jump!” Billy laughed, turning down the heat before crossing over to turn the music down. Looking back at Eric, he looked different. The way he was leaning against the table, the way he hadn’t turned to watch Billy move around the apartment; he was different today. Billy crossed back over and stood the other side of the table. “Hey,” he grinned, trying to keep it light. “Long day?”

Eric had been doing some ‘volunteer’ work at the hospital. It was all part of his course but not at the same time. Billy didn’t understand it but it all sounded pretty intense.

“Fourteen hours,” Eric sighed and Billy felt his eyes widen.

“ _What_?”

“Sheila's daughter had a fever so I took her shift,” he said in explanation.

“And you still drove all the way to Hawkins?” Billy gaped. It was ridiculous enough that the other man felt obligated to take on ‘shifts’ somewhere where he wasn’t being paid but… being obligated to come _here_ too? It felt fucking wrong. It felt like he was a burden again. “You could have cancelled, Eric! I’m good!” Billy tried, hating the thought of the other man killing himself to get here.

There was a short pause.

“I wanted to see you,” Eric said softly, offering a tired smile as he stepped further into the kitchen. Billy moved round the table so that they were facing each other. 

He wanted to see him.

“Yeah?” Billy smiled, taking another step closer.

“Yeah,” Eric breathed and suddenly their lips were touching. Billy felt his breath stop right there in his throat as he simply stood there.

As if he’d just realised what he’d done, Eric snapped back away from him, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. Breath coming short, Billy mimicked the action, his fingertips tracing where Eric’s lips had just been. There was a tingling feeling; almost like static.

“What was that?” Billy breathed and Eric shook his head, taking another step back away from him; out into the main part of the room. Then he shook his head again, stepped back in, closer now. 

“I’m... was that okay? I’m sorry,” he stammered, still moving forwards. Instinctively, Billy took a step away; keeping the distance there between them.

“I...” he breathed. Fuck…

They had kissed. Eric had kissed him. It was… They were…

With Steve the first kiss had been the beginning of everything. Back in the darkness of the lab, they had lost themselves in each other from the very first press of their lips. There had been no stopping it once it started. It was the key that unlocked all the feelings that they’d been holding back.

This was different. _Eric_ was different. What was this…?

“I’m... You’re right. I should go; I’m really tired,” Eric babbled, brows drawing together as he looked at Billy’s expression. He moved back away again. Everything suddenly felt final; like this was the end.

Suddenly, Eric was leaving and Billy knew that he wasn’t going to come back. Fuck. Everything was happening so fast. He didn’t have time to make sense of it all.

“Eric-”

“Don’t worry! I’m... Yeah. Don’t worry! I’ll see you around, yeah?” the older man stammered, still backing away. Before Billy could think of something - _anything_ \- he could say, Eric was already in the doorway to the apartment. “I’ll- I’ll see you!” he stammered and, without waiting for a response, he was gone.

Fingertips still tracing where their lips had met, Billy stared at the empty doorway. His heart was hammering in his chest and he just couldn’t identify if it was desire, excitement or fucking terror. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Bye...” he whispered as the smell of burning filled his nostrils. The sauce was ruined.

\--- **30 th August 1987**\---

“Hey,” Billy breathed the moment he heard the other end of the line connect. He was sitting on one of Joyce’s dining chairs, having moved it to stop himself from pacing during the call. Puppy was sitting by his feet, looking up expectantly like he was about to do something.

Well, technically he was. It had been a week since Eric had kissed him; a week since they’d had _any_ contact. After Nancy had confirmed that Eric was, in fact, okay, Billy had come to the realisation that it really was _him_ that had to reach out. _He_ was the reason all of this was so fucked up.

Goddamn… Why did he have to be so damn frigid?

After Alex died, he’d gone off the rails big time. It seemed like every other night he was sneaking off to Dynamo; every other night he was picking up some random guy and letting them fuck him senseless. It was gross and messy and, frankly, fucking dangerous but, hell, it was a damn sight less awkward that _this_.

“Hey,” Eric’s voice sounded tired on the other end of the phone. The familiar hint of a smile was gone from his tone and Billy couldn’t help but miss it.

“You good? I haven’t heard from you in a week,” he tried, knowing it was cheap. They both knew what was going on here. There was no need for this fucking pretence.

All the same, Eric humoured him. There was a long sigh and Billy could almost see the other man pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve… I’ve being doing a load of pre-course reading and things- Things have been busy at the hospital, you know?” the older man explained and Billy nodded like it wasn’t all a load of bullshit; like that shit wasn’t the kind of thing that Eric talked to Billy about. They both knew what was going here.

“I bet...” Billy sighed, almost ready to give up. This had been stupid. A week later and he still didn’t know what he was doing. Still… that was a week of missing the other man. Even Larry had noticed him ‘moping’ about more than usual. It was pathetic. It was confusing. It was the reason he was calling. “Eric-” he tried again but the older man cut over him.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Billy,” he said and there was silence. Billy bit his lip.

Eric was sorry? Eric -the one who was being messed around, the one who was being led on- was sorry? It made no fucking sense.

“ _You’re_ sorry? For what?” Billy asked, his tone a little harsher than he meant for it to be. There was another sigh on the other end of the line. It was such a _not-Eric_ kind of sound and yet Billy kept making him make it. He hated how much of a negative impact he was having.

“We agreed to take the pressure off this. We were going to just be friends,” Eric spoke carefully. “And then I went and kissed you…”

“Yeah...” Billy added unhelpfully, his hand coming up to trace his lips again. Even now he didn’t know how to feel about it.

“I think I wan- Urgh,” Eric started, stopping and starting like he just couldn’t get the words out right. Again, it wasn’t like him. Again, it was something Billy was doing to him more and more often. “Look, I know I said I was okay with being friends but… I want more than that,” he confessed and Billy’s grip on the phone tightened. More? He wasn’t sure he _had_ more to give… “I _like_ you, Billy. A lot. I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like hanging out with your dog,” he continued and Billy felt warm and cold at the same time. It was sweet. It was lovely. It was… strange. It wasn’t Steve. Maybe he shouldn’t have made this call… “It’s taken me a long time to get to this point in my life; to the point where I know what I want and I’m not afraid to ask for it, you know?” Eric ended and Billy nodded.

Billy knew all about his family. He knew how hard it had been for Eric to come to terms with what he was; with who he was. Hell, it had been one of the things that drew him to the other man; that shared experience.

“Yeah... I get it,” he breathed stupidly. He always was so fucking stupid around Eric. Even on the phone.

“I don’t want to go back to feeling ashamed about what I want,” Eric said and Billy shook his head.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed...” he said, wishing that there had been someone there to say that to him all those fucking times; wishing that he could have heard it and believed it. Hell, a part of him still didn’t fully believe it. That small voice that sounded like Neil -that voice that would probably never go away- still told him he was disgusting.

“Billy… You’re not ready,” Eric said evenly and, fuck, it felt weird hearing _him_ saying that. “It’s okay but it’s... not what I want.”

“Maybe I _could_ be ready?” Billy heard himself offer. No. Not _offer_. It was more like a plea; like he was asking Eric to make him better. Like he expected Eric to be the one to heal him of that nearly 27-month-old agony.

“You’ve never even told me his name, Billy-” Eric started dismissively but Billy cut across.

“It’s Steve- It’s Steve Harrington,” he gasped, his voice breaking with the force of it. He cried it out like this was the one barrier to feeling better. Like saying his name would suddenly make it okay that he’d died and that Billy had watched it happen.

“I know, Billy,” Eric said calmly but now it was all too much again.

Saying his name didn’t make it better. It made it worse. Talking about Steve with Eric was… It was wrong. Steve was the love of his life. He was perfect and wonderful and gone. This thing with Eric… it shouldn’t touch it…

“He was... We were only...” Billy gasped and suddenly Puppy was jumping up onto his lap. There were tears running down his cheeks and the little dog was desperately trying to lick them away. It was gross and horrible but Billy found himself simply grabbing the dog and holder her close, even as she continued to lick at him. “He was my…” he tried again but an ugly sob broke through his words, cutting him short. Breathing in and out he couldn’t help but sob again. Goddamn… it was too far down the line for this shit. “Oh, fuck…” he cried.

“Oh Billy...” Eric sounded so upset, so fucking hurt hearing Billy and all his bullshit.

“Jesus what is wrong with me?” Billy gasped, more to himself than to the other man.

“I’m coming over,” the simple statement made Billy feel all the worse. God he was a mess…

“No. You don’t have to do that,” he objected, still clinging to his dog. “Eric, please…. I’m-” _fine._ He wanted to say ‘fine’. He wanted to lie and hang up and just cry on his own in his apartment. But no… he couldn’t. It was all too much. This was all too much.

“I’m coming over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I low key fell for Eric while writing this. Not gunna lie.  
> He ended up very different from how I first planned him.
> 
> Also please don't come for me; I know nothing about medical degrees and am a little too up and down for my usual level of research. ^_^''''


	3. Making Bread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry for the slow upload but this chapter took me a stupid amount of time for some reason!  
> Hope everyone enjoys it!

\--- **27 th September 1987**\---

“So how was she?” Billy asked from where he knelt on the floor. Puppy was standing up on her back legs, front paws on his knee, licking wildly at his face. Smiling, he ruffled the fluff on the top of her head while trying to maintain a safe distance from her increasingly close tongue.

“Yeah! She had a great time with Uncle Dusty!” the younger boy grinned as he reached out and scratched down the little dog’s back. With a happy little groan, she stretched out, elongating her neck to direct them where to scratch next.

“That name isn’t getting any less creepy,” Billy observed, his hand moving automatically as the little mutt commanded, scratching the long fur under her chin. He watched as her eyes slitted closed with approval. Weird creature.

“No, no, no!! _You_ are never to question _any_ nickname pseudonym or _nom de plume_ anyone _ever_ picks, my friend,” Dustin countered, hands stopping for a moment. Billy had to bite back a chuckle at the ridiculous faux French accent that the younger boy adopted for the words ‘nom de plume’. God, he really was friends with an absolute dork. “Calling a dog ‘Puppy’ is the dumbest thing I ever heard! It doesn’t even make sense! She’s not a puppy anymore!” he continued and Billy smirked.

“Whatever, man. She’s a dog: she doesn’t care!” replied with a roll of his eyes, carrying on scratching. Goddamn, it was stupid how much he’d missed the little creature. Especially after last night…

“Well, time for you to make good on your end of the bargain, amigo,” Dustin said, straightening up and adjusting the backpack that was resting ominously on his shoulders. Billy watched as he crossed over to the kitchen and started to unload all the shit from the bag. “My mom must have got triple the amount of everything on the list…” he grumbled as he heaved out two _big_ sacks of bread flour.

With a sigh, Billy stood up and closed the front door before heading over to his side. This had been the agreement.

Last night, Eric was going to stay over. After the kiss and all the angst surrounding that last month, they had somehow decided to keep seeing each other; somehow decided that it was still worth a shot. They’d seen each other three times since but, with term starting back up for Eric, last night was the first real opportunity they’d had to have a _date_ or _anything_ other than dog walks and other shit when they met halfway between Hawkins and Chicago.

Regardless of what it was _supposed_ to be, neither Billy nor Dustin felt like it wasn’t something Puppy needed to stick around for so the younger boy had offered to have her for the night. The only condition the kid asked for was that Billy show him how to bake bread for his Home Ec. assignment. Strange choice but not the strangest thing Dustin had asked of him during the course of their friendship.

Thing was, last night didn’t exactly go _according to plan_. Not by a long shot. All the awkwardness and embarrassment coming back to him, Billy frowned briefly as he reached the countertop.

“I still don’t see why _she_ can’t show you how to do this, man,” he drawled, making out like he cared more than he did.

“Oh no!” Dustin said dramatically, arms already gesticulating wildly. “If we were _cooking_ something, I’d go to her; hands down! But _baking_?” he shuddered and Billy smiled. He’d had some of Mrs Henderson’s offerings before.

“Okay, okay. What makes you think _I’m_ any better?” he countered and Dustin looked into is eyes with a sickly sweet expression.

“Because you’re amazing?” he cooed and Billy laughed, shoving him back. The other boy laughed but held position. The little bit of extra height he’d gained over the past couple of years really did help him in holding his own.

“Fucking fine…” Billy huffed with a smile.

It felt surreal that there had been a time when Dustin hadn’t been in his life. The kid was always round now; always involved. Hell, Billy had even gone as far as to let him have a spare key to the apartment. He told himself that it was in case he got caught up and Puppy needed feeding or letting out but, honestly, it was more than that. Despite still being one of the biggest nerds in the world, he did love having the kid around. He really did.

“Let’s get this shit done then,” he continued, snatching away the assignment sheet that Dustin had just produced.

He’d never made bread before, having done Shop instead of Home Ec., but he figured it couldn’t be all that difficult really. Especially when he had a set of pretty clear-looking instructions to go by. To prevent having Puppy under their feet the whole time, Billy reached into the fridge and tossed her a carrot before washing his hands. The little dog ran off into the bedroom and Billy internally cursed the fact that there would _definitely_ be bits of carrot on his bed tonight.

Under Billy’s management, they started to weigh out the ingredients, having decided that they would make a loaf each to use of the _masses_ of ingredients that Mrs Henderson had bought. Looking at everything, Billy was certain she’d bought enough for them to make bread for the whole fucking town. It all went pretty smoothly at first. They mixed all the shit together, dusted the counter with flour and both ended up with identically sized balls of dough.

Dustin had a huge grin on his face like the job was already done and Billy couldn’t help but smile with him. He took up the instructions and skimmed to step that they’d reached.

“It says here that we now have to _knead_ the dough for fifteen minutes,” he read aloud and the younger boy looked horrified at the idea.

“Fifteen minutes?” he gasped, again, all dramatic and loud. “Why on earth-? And what is _kneading_?”

“I don’t know but were following this to the letter. I’m not having you blame me for you getting an F for shitty bread tomorrow,” Billy snipped, lightly dusting his hands with the flour before picking up his dough. “And kneading is like this…” he continued, pressing the heels of his hands into the dough and kneading it.

Dustin watched him for a couple of seconds, eyes locked onto his hands like he was doing something complicated. Just as Billy was starting to feel irritated with the boy’s lack of action,

“So…” Dustin started as he carefully worked the dough. Even from that single word, Billy knew what was coming. The tone was so loaded. “Without any details that will scar me for life…” the younger boy carried on, eyes fixed on what he was doing like it was about to all somehow go terribly wrong. Like the ball of dough could suddenly grow legs and run away. “Did you and Eric… You know- Do the-Did you guys…?” he continued, faltering a little over actually _saying it_. “ _You know_?”

Billy did know. He had _known_ that this would come up. The younger boy had been under no illusions as to why Puppy had needed a sleep-over. The implication had been right there to see: he and Eric were going to have sex last night. While not a firm plan, it was definitely… there.

And it was definitely where they _had_ been heading.

Knowing that there was absolutely no point in delaying the inevitable with resistance or being an asshole, Billy gritted his teeth and shook his head.

“You didn’t?” Dustin asked, eyes locked onto him now.

“We didn’t,” Billy confirmed.

“Oh thank God!” the other boy sighed dramatically, his whole body slumping and his head falling back, and, honestly, that was _not_ the reaction Billy had been expecting. From how he’d been speaking when Billy had dropped Puppy off, anyone would have thought it was _his_ sex life they were discussing. “Sorry but you totally weren’t ready!” Dustin added, clearly seeing the look on Billy’s face.

“I _wasn’t ready_? Dustin, you _told_ me to do it!” Billy snapped, hands stilling inside the dough.

“I never said-”

“ _‘Go get some, Hargrove’_! That’s literally what you said!” Billy cut across the other boy before he could object.

“Well, I mean-” Dustin tried again but Billy cut him off a second time.

“ _‘It’s been way too long, my dude. You need to get laid, like now’!_ Wasn’t that another one of your lines?” the older man continued, frankly _nailing_ his impression of the other boy if he did say so himself. 

“Yes, but you see-”

“Well, I _went_. I tried…” he carried on but now it felt less funny. Thinking about the awkward silence, the softness of Eric’s voice, the look on his face. It wasn’t funny; it was fucking _humiliating_. It was the final nail in the coffin… “I fucked it up…” he sighed out the truth.

There was silence as both boys let it sink in. Their hands were still. Even Puppy, wherever she’d taken herself off to, didn’t make a sound.

“What happened?” Dustin asked, tilting his head to try and look at Billy properly; try to gage the expression on his face. Billy shook his head and started to work the dough again.

“Urgh… I don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbled, knowing full-well that that wouldn’t be enough to deter the other boy.

“Billy, my man, my _main_ man, my _brother-_ ” Dustin started lightly but, once again, Billy stopped him mid-flow.

“Dustin-” he warned but the other boy held his sticky hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay…” he nodded before taking up his ball again and starting to knead it. A couple of beats passed and Billy could _feel_ the continuation building up in the other boy. Dustin had never been all that good at letting things go; always claimed to be on a ‘curiosity voyage’ or some shit. He didn’t like to leave conversational doors closed for all that long. “But we both know it’d make you feel better to talk about it,” he carried on after another couple of beats and, yeah, Billy was right.

“We are not talking about this shit,” Billy made one last attempt.

“I told you about Becky Hinkley,” Dustin countered and, flipping through the mental index of names, Billy almost drew a blank. The only reason he even _vaguely_ recalled the name was because of the context that this _Becky Hinkley_ was being invoked; the context of relationships and sex and all that shit.

“What? That you accidentally touched her rack in the chemistry lab?” Billy shot back, more than a little triumphant at having remembered so quickly. “ _Not_ the same thing, Dustin!” he added because it really wasn’t. Reaching out for a beaker and grabbing a girl’s chest was definitely _not_ on the same page as the shit that went down last night; not even in the same fucking book.

“It was the single most sexually-charged moment of my life, I’ll have you know,” Dustin said smartly and Billy would normally laugh -would normally poke fun and wind the kid up- but, given the current topic that they were edging closer and closer to, he just didn’t have it in him right now.

“Well that’s just sad,” he tried all the fucking same. “Even _I_ had gotten to second base with a chick at your age, you know. For real as well, not just by accident.”

“We are not here to discuss _my_ sexual conquests, thank you!” Dustin snipped, clearly having nothing better to offer in argument.

“Because we just did. That one fucking sentence,” Billy concluded, digging the heels of his hands into the dough. It was _gradually_ getting closer to the promised ‘elastic’ feel that the instructions called for but he knew there were still a good few minutes left before they could call it quits.

“Nooo! What about that girl at summer camp-?” Dustin tried but Billy could already remember the story from this year’s trip to Camp Know Where. In fact, he couldn’t _forget_ the story, no matter how much he wanted to.

“No. That doesn’t count,” he said with a dismissive wave of a hand.

“It counts. She licked my protractor. It-”

“I thought we _weren’t_ talking about your sexual conquests?” Billy cut in again, definitely _not_ wanting to hear about the strange girl with the oral fixation.

“So, you _do_ want to talk about it?” Dustin grinned like some kind of battle had been won.

“Urgh…” Billy sighed, dramatic as the boy stood beside him. There really was no use in fighting it; Dustin wanted to talk about it. They were going to talk about it. Hell, maybe he _would_ feel better if he was able to talk it over. “There’s no ‘it’ to talk about…” he grumbled as he concentrated solely on the dough in his hands.

“No it… What happened?” Dustin asked thoughtfully. Billy bit his lip and pushed his hands into the dough so firmly that he definitely broke through to the countertop below. “Did he not fit?” the younger boy suddenly asked and Billy felt his whole body tense up.

“What-? Oh god! _No_!” he gaped, turning to look at the other boy whose face had gone a very obvious shade of pink.

“I don’t know!” Dustin’s voice came out more as a squeak than his normal tone. The embarrassment was real and, if it didn’t go both ways, Billy would have loved to twist the knife right now. “You made it sound like something went wrong!”

“Well not _that_!” Billy replied sharply. _If only_ that had been the issue. _That_ would be an easy solve. _That_ wouldn’t have had Eric leaving in the dead of night. “Jesus, Henderson, how do you think gay sex goes, exactly?” he snapped, instantly regretting it because, honestly, he really _didn’t_ want to know what Dustin Henderson’s interpretation of gay sex was.

“I dunno? Were you not the girl? Weren’t you always the girl with Steve?” Dustin asked, his voice still so fucking shrill.

Billy stared at him for a moment. While he definitely _wasn’t_ the only person in the world to think of the act in terms of a ‘girl’ and a ‘boy’, it was so much like Steve for the younger boy to talk about it that way. As it was doing more and more these days, the reminder didn’t hurt Billy all too much. If anything, it brought a despairing smile to his lips.

“Jesus… you really were too good friends with Steve…” he sighed, turning back to his work.

“What?” Dustin asked but Billy shook his head.

“Never mind,” Billy snipped, turning the dough in his hand and carrying on. His wrists were starting to feel it now and Billy couldn’t help but think this could have been a good bit of physio for his arms if only he’d known about it last year. “No, I wasn’t the _girl_. There is no _girl_ in gay sex. And, no, it wasn’t a case of him _not fitting_ , you fucking weirdo,” he explained, not looking at the younger boy throughout. He didn’t need to look at him while they talked about this. “It was _me_ ,” he ended, hoping that tiny nugget would be enough even though he knew it wouldn’t be.

“Oh! _You_ didn’t fit?” Dustin said triumphantly.

“Oh my god!” Billy snapped again, throwing his dough down against the countertop with a dramatic slapping sound. While he still wasn’t looking directly at him, Billy saw the tiny flinch from the other boy. Shit. That wasn’t the tone he was going for right now.

“Okay, okay!” Dustin said quickly in a placating tone, like Billy really was mad. Fuck. “So… it was you…?” the younger boy pushed on, clearly either having a death wish or simply knowing Billy’s limits.

“Urgh…” the older man sighed, hands coming up to almost grip at his hair before he remembered how sticky and gross they were. He looked at the bits of dough that were still on the insides of his fingers and sighed. “Look…This dough… We need to leave it to _rise_ for a little, otherwise the bread will come out shitty, right?” he started. Metaphors were best. Talking openly about dicks and all the rest was just going to drive them mad.

“I mean you tell me. Now that Mandy Fink has made it 100% clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me, I’m not sure why I’m even taking Home Ec.,” the younger boy started to ramble and Billy shook his head.

“ _Dustin_! It’s a _metaphor_ ,” he said pointedly and there was a short pause.

“Oh! The _rising_ dough!” Dustin finally cottoned on, slapping Billy on the shoulder with his sticky hands. “Got ya, stud!”

“Jesus, why am I talking to you?” Billy sighed, going back to kneading his dough. It felt like they’d been doing this forever but it could only have been about 10 minutes at the most. Fifteen minutes was _definitely_ ridiculous.

“So the _dough_ was rising… what’s the problem?” Dustin probed and Billy felt a shudder at the implication.

“Well… _His_ dough was rising…” he said through all the embarrassment; through all the tension.

“Ohhhh!” Dustin hooted like he was in a studio audience for a sitcom or some shit. It was so fucking dramatic that Billy turned to jab a finger at him.

“Henderson, I swear to God if you say anything to anyone-” he started his warning but the other boy was already shaking his head at him.

“Who am I going to tell?” he asked, arms out wide as if to motion to all the non-existent people he was going to tell. Nope. Billy couldn’t take it just on that.

“Max? Mike? Like, _everyone_?” he snipped and Dustin’s jaw dropped, a hand coming up to his chest in another melodramatic gesture.

“I would never betray you trust like that!” he exclaimed but Billy already had a counter argument ready.

“That tear in my overalls-?” he started remembering _that_ incident all too well. How every one of the little brats had heard about it within minutes like Dustin had suddenly inherited El’s powers or some shit. _That_ had been a literal pain in the ass.

“That was hilarious and not the same thing at all!” Dustin defended the indefensible and earned himself a good slap to the bicep with one of Billy’s sticky hands. He gave Billy a look of horror but the older man simply stared him out. A moment passed and they both turned back to their balls of dough. “So, your dough didn’t _rise_?” Dustin said conversationally like he hadn’t just been slapped like a little bitch.

“No,” Billy replied tensely. It was definitely not one of his finest moments. Closing his eyes, he saw the look on Eric’s face again; saw the undisguised hurt and disappointment. It had only been there for a moment before he’d tried to cover it up but -goddamn- Billy had seen it; had felt it along with him.

“Not even a little?” Dustin asked and Billy sighed deeply.

“I mean…” he started. He didn’t know how much fucking credit he should give himself, in all honesty. His body had let him down _big time_ last night. “Not for long…”

“Did you try… adding yeast?” Dustin suggested and Billy turned to look at him in confusion.

“What the fuck is that a metaphor for?” he snapped and, once again, Dustin’s hands were up in surrender. Goddamn, his bread didn’t stand a chance.

“I dunno… Like… _Viagra_?” the younger boy suggested and Billy stared at him again.

“I’m fucking _twenty years old_ , not fucking _seventy_ , Henderson!” he barked, shame raising his heckles way faster than usual. His face felt hot and he knew he was blushing. This was so fucking mortifying. Why did he think it would make him feel better to talk about it?

“Okay, okay! God, you’re testy today!” Dustin squawked and Billy gave him a look.

“Well it was kind of a humiliating night!” he replied and the younger boy at least had the sense not to make any more comments.

“Was Eric okay? Did… Did he make bread?” he asked and Billy gave him yet another look.

“Really?” he snipped but the question and the look on the kid’s face was actually pretty fucking sincere. Shit. “No, Dustin. Kinda puts you off making bread if the other guy’s dough doesn’t rise,” he explained feeling utterly ridiculous with the metaphor he’d chosen to use now.

“Did… Did you try _kneading_ the dough?” Dustin offered and there was a tinge of laughter to his voice that Billy couldn’t bring himself to appreciate. Much.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he sighed, leaning forwards so that his weight was all on his arms.

“ _Stretching_ it, too. That could activate the yeast-” Dustin continued and it only conjured the most ridiculous of images in his head.

“You’re a fucking freak. You know that, right?” he replied and the younger boy chuckled, patting him on the back now. Goddamn, they were both going to be covered in bread dough by the end of it and, fuck, if that didn’t sound all kinds of _wrong_ in Billy’s head now.

“Look, I’m sure it’s nothing, Billy,” Dustin carried on, sounding a little like he was trying to shift back into a serious tone. “Making bread with someone new… It’s gotta be hard…” he started, cutting off with a small snort of unexpected laughter. “Haha… _hard_ \- Sorry!” he chuckled and Billy put his face in his hands, not caring at all how gross and sticky they were now. “What?” the younger boy asked when Billy didn’t react any further to his immaturity.

Billy sighed deeply.

“I haven’t exactly been baking alone either,” he admitted, his voice almost caught up behind his lips. God, this was humiliating. Why the fuck was he still talking? Why the fuck was he opening up like this.

“Really?”

“I dunno. Not really been in the mood for… bread,” he said with a shrug. He knew it wasn’t normal. He knew how he’d been before everything two years ago. He knew that kind of shit didn’t go away under normal circumstances.

“Since when?”

“I…” he stalled. Fuck, did he ever sound like a basket case. He’d looked like one last night when he and Eric had had a similar conversation. Fuck, the humiliation was all flooding back in again. He just wanted to sink into the floor. Fall through to the laundrette and then keep on sinking.

“Since Steve?” the kid asked. Fuck. Billy wasn’t sure if Dustin was just really intuitive or if he was just real fucking obvious but, damn, it was out there.

“Yeah…”

“Wow. That’s a _while_ …” Dustin remarked and, yeah, no shit. Billy bit his lip before carrying on.

“Yeah. At first, I just… wasn’t in the mood, you know? _Bread_ doesn’t really go with crying all the fucking time; with seeing Steve dying every time I closed my eyes, you know?” he explained and it all just tumbled out of him. Like he was dictating his life’s fucking story or something. Fucking hell. “But… I dunno… Even now, when I don’t really think about that shit anymore… the dough just…” trailing off, all he could offer was a shrug.

It wasn’t like he’d spent hours and hours tugging away at himself trying to get off. He just, honestly, hadn’t been in the mood. When he was stressed or anxious, he would work out. When he felt like he was going mad from being in the apartment too long, he’d take Puppy out for a walk. He just… hadn’t _needed_ to jerk off recently.

And, when he _had_ considered it, everything just…

“Stays flat and limp?” Dustin offered, holding up his dough ball in a way that let it slowly stretch down towards the counter out of his hands. It truly was a gross sight and not exactly what _anyone_ would want their dick to be compared to.

“I _will_ hit you,” Billy snarled and Dustin laughed nervously.

“I mean the _dough_?” he offered but they both knew it was bullshit. Little asshole.

“I sincerely hope you get that it’s not actually bread we’re talking about here,” Billy said in a warning tone that had no real fight behind it.

“I know, I know…” Dustin nodded, waving his hands like he was shooing Billy away. “Look… It’ll happen. Maybe… Maybe you have to get used to how Eric… _makes the dough_. I mean, maybe he uses a different recipe…”

It had been going so well. They’d been on the couch watching a movie. Billy had put his arm around Eric, wanting to make him feel wanted, and the other man had snuggled in. They’d laughed at something on screen, both turning to look at each other. Then they’d kissed. A real kiss. Not an accidental kiss. And it…

It had felt _good_. Billy had let himself sink into the kiss; let himself bring a hand to cup Eric’s cheek; let his tongue slip in between his lips. It had felt good to kiss him and it hadn’t taken long for the older man to end up straddling him on the couch. They’d _both_ been hard; grinding against each other like fucking teenagers. It had felt good.

Eric had gasped out the suggestion of taking things to the bedroom and Billy had lifted him up from that position, legs wrapped around his waist. He’d felt good. He’d been into it. He’d taken Eric to bed and laid him down there, kissing and gasping and touching all the way. He’d kneeled above him, taking in the sight of that sexy man lying on his bed, ready for him.

But then everything had just… stopped. Through kisses and touches and offers of _more,_ they had tried to power through -tried to bring it back- but, no, it just wasn’t happening. Whatever spark had come alight in the lounge had been extinguished by the time they reached the bedroom… It was just over…

“Or maybe I’m broken…” Billy breathed, hating that it was probably true. “Maybe the _yeast_ in our fucking metaphor is _me_. Yeast can go bad, you know? It’s, like, a tiny organism and it can die. Maybe that’s just me and I just don’t work anymore…” he trailed off feeling like utter shit.

The way Eric had looked at him. He’d tried so fucking hard not to let on how much it had hurt him. After all the bullshit Billy had put him through up to that point, it was just too much. It fucking hurt to think of that.

There was a long silence. Billy put his hands back into his dough and started to knead it again. He didn’t know how long they’d been at it; wasn’t sure if it really mattered anymore. It felt elasticy and stretchy. Surely that was enough?

“Well… there’s always plan V!” Dustin finally said and, with that, Billy _did_ hit him. Hard. On the arm. “Ow! Billy-!”

“We’re done! I’m not talking about this anymore,” Billy snipped. Although it was a shit joke, the levity that the kid provided was fucking _needed_. God, he loved that little shit.

“Billy-”

“No. We’re _done_ ,” the older man said firmly, clapping his hands together and looking at the two balls of dough. “Now… let’s actually leave the dough to rise for a bit…” he said, reaching for the bowl he’d been mixing in and dumping his ball back into it.

“I’m never going to think of bread and dough the same way again. You do realise that, don’t you?” Dustin moaned copying the action as Billy ran a couple of dish towels under the warm tap and draping them over the bowls.

“Whatever. Let’s get this place cleaned up,” he sighed looking at all the equipment and flour that had somehow covered his kitchen area. Dustin’s eyes scanned the area as well but he looked less bothered than it than Billy felt.

“We’re just gunna make a mess again,” he shrugged and Billy rolled his eyes.

“A tidy kitchen is a safe kitchen,” he said simply as he started to collect up the things that needed washing.

“Yeah, yeah…” Dustin sighed. For all his bitching, he didn’t need telling again as he reached for the backpack and started to load up the unused ingredients.

“Didn’t they teach you that in Home Ec.?” Billy asked and the younger boy shrugged.

“I mean, do you really think we’d be making bread together if I _listened_ in Home Ec.?” he replied ironically but then grimaced when he heard his own phrasing. “God… that sounds wrong now,” he cringed and Billy nodded.

“Yeah… Don’t be gross…” he said as he flipped the hot tap back on to fill the sink.

He squirted in perhaps a little too much dish soap as watched as all the bubbles expanded while Dustin finished his task and reached for the last dry towel.

“I’m glad you talked to me though, man. It’s good,” the younger boy observed as Billy started to wash the various bowls and shit that they’d been measuring with. Billy grunted in reply, not exactly keen to give voice to how much fucking affection he had for the kid. Didn’t need him holding that shit over his head. “How did Eric take it all?” Dustin continued after a couple of minutes of silence.

Billy sighed again. The face. The hurt. The failed attempts to make it seem _okay_.

“He was… He said it was fine. Just said I was too in my head…” he tried to explain but, god, it wasn’t so much humiliating now. More something he was ashamed of. He hated that he’d put Eric through all that shit. “He said all the right things but…”

“Things haven’t exactly gone smoothly up to now have they?” Dustin said plainly, hitting the nail square on the head.

“Understatement of the century right there,” Billy agreed, handing the boy the penultimate dish to dry. “I just feel like I’m too much work… Like, _honestly,_ would you stick around after all the shit I’ve put him through? ‘Cause I know I wouldn’t!” Who fucking would?

Who was masochistic enough to be treated like this over and over? Sure, Billy _liked_ Eric -Eric was _fucking hot_ and such a nice guy- but every time they took a step forwards Billy knocked them back about twelve with his histrionics.

Even now, well over two years after Steve’s death, Billy was still this broken thing. It was enough to make him feel like he really had gone _mad_ with grief; that losing Steve had just broken him beyond repair. That he could sometimes act normal and pass for normal but, in the end, he just _wasn’t_ any more.

“Billy…” Dustin sighed and there was nothing helpful in that voice. It almost sounded like he agreed; like he, too, thought that Billy was mad.

“Urgh! I fucking hate this!” Billy snapped, thrusting the final bowl into Dustin’s hand and yanking out the plug. The soapy water spilled down the pipe with a loud gurgling sound and the two boys just stood there for a moment. “I used to be the guy people fucking _wanted_. Even here in fucking Hawkins, people _wanted_ me. I was hot shit,” Billy spat out bitterly. Yeah, he hadn’t wanted any of the Hawkins cows but -goddamn it had been easier being the object of people’s desire. Being pitied all the fucking time -being this fucking pathetic- was so much worse.

“You were also a raging psychopath,” Dustin said simply and Billy laughed a hollow laugh.

“Thanks man,” he smirked but Dustin shook his head, putting the bowl into the drying rack.

“No, I mean…” he started, swinging the dishcloth up to rest over his shoulder. “Yeah, you’ve _changed_. You’re not that _douchebag_ who struts around like he owns the place anymore. Girls _don’t_ fall at your feet wherever you go-” he caught himself as his eyes took in Billy’s face. He quickly corrected himself. “But that’s mostly because you don’t go anywhere! I can guarantee that girls would hit on you non-stop if you went out more often. Guys too if you went to the right place,” he added with a little grin.

“Dustin…” Billy sighed but the younger boy wasn’t done.

“And believe me, I don’t miss the guy that you were. That guy tried to run me over. That guy threatened Lucas and beat the shit out of Steve,” he carried on and it was fucking off how detached from that version of himself Billy now felt. There was still a twist of guilt at the thought of doing that to Steve -one that would likely always be there- but it felt so much like a different person had been the one doing it. _He_ was a different person now. Without Neil poisoning his mind every fucking day, he wasn’t quite so fucking angry. “Yeah, you’re a bit broken but you’re a good guy, Billy. I much prefer this guy to that guy.”

“I wasn’t actually gunna run you over, you know?” Billy smiled after a moment’s pause. Dustin rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips.

“We didn’t know that. You scared the shit out of us,” he said, taking up the dishcloth and flapping it in Billy’s direction on the word ‘you’.

“Sorry,” Billy breathed and Dustin sighed and tossed the cloth towards the sink.

“See? The _old Billy_ wouldn’t apologise for that!” he smiled, capping Billy on the shoulder and guiding him out from the kitchen area and into the lounge area.

“The old Billy would have gotten laid last night,” Billy reflected, letting himself be led even when Dustin halted abruptly.

“Okay, first: Gross!” the younger boy emoted, pulling a ridiculous face. “And second: I don’t think _Eric_ would like the old Billy at all. Let alone want to sleep with him,” he continued and Billy couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Fair point,” he said and Dustin nodded confidently.

“Did you say you’d meet up again?” he asked, moving past Billy to throw himself into his normal spot on the left hand side of the cough. Looking down, Billy finally noticed that Puppy had come out of the bedroom at some point and was now half asleep in _her_ usual spot in the very centre of the couch.

“He said he’d call,” he shrugged, walking past the pair of them to his spot. He slowly lowered himself down as a big fucking grin spread over Dustin’s face.

“Yeah? Then you didn’t ruin it!” he smiled but Billy looked at him doubtfully.

“You think? Pretty sure that’s the universal line when you’re blowing someone off,” he said but Dustin was shaking his head with all the confidence of a virgin who _thought_ they knew it all.

“Eric’s not like that,” he said decidedly. “Give it a chance; give him a chance.”

“Yeah…” Billy replied but he still had doubts. _He_ wouldn’t be back for more after this.

“And maybe take some time to _yourself_ … if you know what I mean?” Dustin added with an awkward cough. Billy looked at him and couldn’t stop himself from grinning at the bright red tinge that was on his face again. Goddamn, this kid was such a fucking prude. “You know? _Make some bread_ of your own. See how it goes,” the younger boy elaborated, looking away in embarrassment.

“You asking me to jerk off, Dustin?” Billy grinned, his tongue slipping out to wet his lower lip. Dustin’s eyes caught the action and he jerked away violently.

“Not right now!” he yelped, half-folding himself over the arm of the couch to increase the distance between them. Billy threw his head back and laughed. God it felt good to laugh right now. “Jesus!” Dustin groused, eyes narrowing as Billy mockingly ran a hand down his body at him. “But _yes_! You wouldn’t try to fix a car’s engine while it was still driving on the road would you? You’d take it into the shop and have a long, hard look at it,” he continued, face cracking a little at the words ‘long’ and ‘hard’. Billy grinned wolfishly.

“We’re mixing metaphors now, huh?”

“Well, I don’t know! The bread thing’s a bit stupid!” Dustin snapped, throwing his hands up in the air. “Guys don’t tend to make _separate_ loaves of bread _together_!” he continued but then caught himself. His eyes met Billy’s and they both _knew_ he’d walked into that one. “I mean _outside_ of this _very specific_ situation!” Dustin snipped and Billy barked out another obnoxious laugh. “Jesus, you’re annoying today!”

“Apparently so,” Billy winked, earning himself yet another eyeroll from the younger boy.

“I’m _trying_ to be serious here, you know? You use it or lose it, Billy,” Dustin lectured, waving his index finger in Billy’s direction almost like he was scolding him. Unfortunately for him, the idea of being scolded for _not_ jerking off all the time was just too entertaining and Billy laughed all the harder. “Just let yourself… I dunno… _relax_ ,” Dustin tried to carry on but the corners of his mouth were twitching. He was so close to breaking. “Like _Frankie_ says…” he added with a small giggle.

“I think that song is dealing with precisely the _opposite_ problem to the one we’ve got right here,” Billy chuckled and that was it. Dustin’s face finally broke out into a full-blown smile as he laughed at their ridiculousness.

Fuck, did it feel good to _laugh_ at this. It still sucked. It still burned away at him. But it did feel good to laugh at it all the same.

“Another fair point, my man,” Dustin finally allowed, wiping a tear from his eye. He turned to look at the pair of bowls on the countertop. “How long do you think it’ll take for the dough to…” he caught himself and, after a beat, continued, “… be ready?”

“Did you read the instructions at all?” Billy sighed, hauling himself up onto his feet and trudging back into the kitchen area to grab the instructions. This disturbed Puppy who followed him in, big, black eyes pleading for some kind of edible reward for such loyalty. “It says proving the dough takes two hours,” Billy read aloud, ignoring the dog as he headed right back into the lounge area.

“God, it never takes me that long,” Dustin sighed in a shit-eating tone and Billy grinned as he sat back down.

“Now who’s fucking gross?” he laughed, kicking at Dustin’s leg in an act of war that no teenage boy could let slide.

“You started it,” Dustin replied, bringing his feet up onto the couch; ready for battle.

“I’m pretty sure this whole conversation started because of you,” Billy continued, giving Dustin’s shins a little kick now; goading him.

“You made it gross,” Dustin countered with a kick of his own.

“ _You’re_ gross,” Billy laughed, feeling half his age as he landed a good double kick.

“ _Your face_ is gross!” Dustin yelped, feet coming up so he could kick wildly.

Puppy wisely pottered back into the bedroom to avoid the bloodshed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next story is the last one. I really hope people feel it's a good ending to all of this!


End file.
